I was never much of a flirt in grade school. I was the youngest of three girls and I had no experience talking with my male classmates. They made me nervous and scared me to death.
There were a few boys in my grade school classes that I thought were cool – handsome even. One year at Easter, the various classes made and decorated Easter baskets. We brought hard-boiled eggs from home and dyed them in our art class.
After Easter, the teacher kept reminding us to take our baskets home. She warned that the eggs were probably rotten and not OK to eat. Finally, one Friday afternoon, she took each of our Easter baskets and handed them to us as we left class for the weekend.
I only lived a couple of blocks from my grade school. As I was walking home, one of the really cute boys in our class started riding his bike very slowly next to me. The next thing I knew, he pitched one of his rotten eggs at me. I started to giggle and pitched one of my rotten eggs at him. It hit him on his back and splattered all over his shirt. Now, he was laughing so hard that he almost fell off his bike.
Soon this developed into a full-fledged rotten egg fight. By the time I turned onto my home street, my hair was full of eggs, my dress was covered with eggs and the good news was, he was covered in rotten eggs too. He stopped his bike at my corner and we laughed so hard, I could hardly breathe.
This was a high point of my grade school years. One of the cool boys and I had a rotten egg fight and laughed and had a great time. This was the beginning and end of our relationship but I felt special that he had singled me out.
As he rode off on his bike and I headed for home, I couldn’t help but think “the last one home is a rotten egg!”.